


Hoodoo (Four by Seven)

by LaughableLament



Series: Supernatural Poetry Month [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnapo, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Nudity, Poetry, Protection Magic, Season/Series 12, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:07:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughableLament/pseuds/LaughableLament
Summary: Sam, twins, and hoodoo are things Dean’s only done separately before.(Or, Sammy’s hot-witch-twins do Kansas.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Double](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8601112) by [crowroad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowroad/pseuds/crowroad). 



> Doesn’t properly belong with, but is inspired by crowroad’s Banes-verse, [Foxes](http://archiveofourown.org/series/689766). (AO3 made me pick, so I picked Part One.) Thank you, my friend, for sharing all your beautiful gifts.

i.  
“A protection spell.”  
Dean’s told some whoppers to get into pretty girls’ pants but,  
“You and your witch boyfriend—”  
Try to make out what those shoulders mean.

“Max texts,” Sam quotes:  
“‘My sister isn’t afraid.”  
Great Adam’s apple migration,  
“What’s up with yours?’”

Palms forward. “Whoa.”  
  
 

ii.  
“Turn here. ’Licia found this amazing place.”  
Access road winds left behind a berm of trees.  
“See the silo?” Twister casualty.  
Ten- or twelve-foot tall tube, ripped open to sky.

Dean half-ass hides the car.

“Take off your clothes. My sister is casting our circle.”  
Starlight overhead and past Max,  
candles throw towering shadows up curved walls,  
hard brown nipples and upstretched arms.  
Weeds and wildflowers at her feet.  
  
 

iii.  
Max smiles into his sister’s kiss, edge of his mouth.  
“Sam?”

“I enter this circle with perfect love and perfect trust.”  
Full dimples and Max slips Sam some tongue, not even subtle.

Dean grits his lines.  
Sam goes just this side of unbrotherly—

“It’s okay,” Max says.

 _Sammy, you_ —  
Head shakes.

“I complete this circle.”  
Alicia seizes Dean’s hand.  
“In perfect love and perfect trust.”  
And lays one on him that rattles his bones.  
  
 

iv.  
Turn by turn they pestle herbs, oils into paste.

“Shit stinks like VapoRub.”

 And Alicia starts,  
“Don’t tell me you put that poison on your skin—”

while Sam says,  
“Menthol, camphor, eucalyptus—basically _is_ VapoRub.”

And that’s gonna be a fight.  
But Max goes,  
“Purification and protection, minus the petrochemcials…”

Breeze lifts, smell of dry lightning.  
Everyone’s hair stands up.  
Quiet eye contact.

Dean passes the bowl—  
_heh, passes the bowl—_  
but the joke don’t even land in his own head.  
  
 

v.  
Dean and Sam watch Max paint his sister’s back.  
Hair pulled over one shoulder.

“Quit squirming.”  
“Quit tickling!”

Naked together like four-year-olds.  
Custom rune-job crawls down her spine, around her ribs.

“Your turn.”  
Max hands Sam the big wood bowl and  
Alicia walks him through while she paints Max.

Dean’s gettin adrenaline high.  
“Does fuckin tickle.”  
Arms cross.  
Itch to get dressed and go fight somebody.

Max gets a backhand.  
“Told you.”

“The girls are ganging up on me, Sam.”

And Dean throws him an eye.  
And Max blows back a kiss—

“All done,” Alicia says,  
and “Copy Max onto Sam.”  
Hands over the-uhh, the potion,  
Dean guesses.  
“It’ll keep him safe.”  
Squeezed fingers.

Max invites him to enjoy the view.  
  
 

vi.  
Cross-legged, wrist-locked,  
knees to knees with Sam.  
Sweat from the circle of candles  
spilling wax over wood and cinder blocks.

Twin forearms grip overhead,  
an incantation.  
Incense smoke thick.  
Runes Ben-Gay into Dean’s back.  
Witch itch, creep of a healing cut all over his skin.

Chanting crests,  
Shine on Alicia’s thigh and mixed blood,  
mixed sex, _easy boy,_  
but Max is hard and so is Sam,  
and so what if they come all over each other,  
well—Alicia, but  
Dean will personally eat her out til she cries, twice,  
if it goes like that.

Max and Alicia sink to their knees.  
More kisses exchanged.  
Chaste. Almost, reverent.

Dean thinks back thirtyplus years.  
Sammy’s demands for _night-night._  
First fact he knew in his life.  
He had to protect this kid.  
  
 

vii.  
“This is the part where we usually have to go _out_ to get hotties.”  
Max brandishes eyelashes.  
Sam turns colors.  
“Your place?”

“Max…”  
And Dean’s gotta say, her eyeroll game is _strong._  
She pinky-hooks him.  
“How do you feel?”

Dean grunts. Taller. Straighter.  
And Sam’s just short of aglow.  
“M’good.”  
He slips an arm around her.  
“Allllll right.”  
Feigned resignation.  
“You kids can come see the Bat Cave.”

Sam smiles,  
thermonuclear.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [spnapo](http://spnapo.livejournal.com)  
> Prompt: Remedies – in a telephone-game kinda way


End file.
